Greenfire
by AkaiTennyo
Summary: Spring isn't always something to celebrate... A snippet from Ivalice concerning Relj. (Now extended to include other characters and their stories.)
1. Chapter 1: Greenfire

Disclaimer: If I owned FFXII, Balthier would have been the main character, we'd have seen a lot more of Arcadian politics, and Ashe would have suffered a mishap of the permanent variety along the way...

* * *

 **Greenfire**

* * *

 _The Jagd Difor is an unforgiving place. All of it. The Golmore Jungle is guarded jealously by the reclusive Viera; they allow none through their woods despite all the sweet words and subtle threats the Empire might bestow. The Feywood, well, you'd have to be a fool to brave the fell fiends of that accursed place._

 _But of course the most famous was the Paramina. A desolate rift valley, swamped with Mist. Once it had held its place as a jewel of the Galtean Alliance. Under the ancient King Raithwall, temples had been carved into mighty cliffs and enchanted cities had sprawled throughout the serene valleys. They say magicks unimaginable today flew commonplace from the lips of the people who lived here._

 _No longer. No, the Paramina's glory days have long passed, crushed under centuries of ice and snow. Frozen and bleak, the Paramina Rift has become a place only the daring and the desperate attempted to trespass. Snowdrifts were known to swallow whole caravans if and when they gave way. Ice shelves shattered unexpectedly, dropping the unwary into deep chasms or frozen rivers, never to been seen again. The mountains seemed caught in an eternal winter, bound and determined to kill everything in its wake._

 _But, oh, fools. If Winter in the Paramina were not cruel enough, do you dare imagine the horrors of_ Spring _?_

* * *

o.o.o

* * *

Relj sat perched in the bows of the Greyline Cypress that towered throughout the Wood. Her duty as wood warder bid her patrol the borders of her home, even in this dreadful season. Chill rain plopped through the thinning leaves, here at the forest's edge. It was not cold enough to freeze any longer. No, this rain would still steal all the warmth it could before turning it's power to the ground below. The ever present snow of the Rift beyond slowly melted under the barrage, turning to a dreadful sludge. The Wood alone kept purchase in the onslaught of mud, and Relj had the duty of keeping the encroaching humes out.

Ears pricked, she could hear the faint echo of screams brought in on the wind. It had begun. Humes had been trespassing ever more frequently the past few years, and there were always some utterly stupid enough to think these mountains safer in the spring.

'Senseless humes!' Relj disparaged in her mind.

The screams increased in their terror, and Relj could hear the guttural moans of the Paramina's darkest fiends join the morbid chorus.

Her ears folded back, and she clenched her bow on instinct. Sometimes the fiends of the Paramina wandered into the Wood. Wolves were no trouble to the arboreal Viera. The occasional skeleton was easily vanquished with enchanted arrows and she could call the other wood warders if a Yeti did decide to hunt here…

But no one wanted to deal with the undead corpses that rose from the muck when the Rift deigned to thaw. Every year, the Paramina Rift claimed countless lives. Some the wolves scavenged. A few fell into the watery domain of the lizards. But most lay trapped under the snow. Imprisoned by the magicite of the rocks below and the fell mist above, the bodies twisted under the influence of the perverse magicks. Imbued with toxic strength and the burning desire to _leave_ , the zombies of the Paramina were among the most terrible in all of Ivalice. The ice usually kept them at bay…

Relj shuddered.

 **Sluck. Clatter. Groan.**

But in the spring it was another game altogether. The screams were growing closer, and Relj resigned herself to dealing with the fool humes who drew the fiends into her woods. The Green Word was resolute on the matter. The fiends were not to enter the Wood, no matter the cost. Buoyed by the affirmation gracing her ears, Relj drew her bow taught. Eyes and ears focused on the peak where the raucous humes were about to come into view. The Wood was sacred, and they would not violate it.

Delicate claws brushed the arrow's soft feathers, and Relj's eyes widened as both hume and fiend came into her field of vision. A cry of despair tore from her lips and she jerked the arrow up too late.

 **TWANG!**

It struck her target true, but missed the hume's precious cargo. Unthinking, Relj dove from her treetop vigil. Into the snow, out of the Wood, she ran. A dagger came loose from silver boots and plunged into the side of the zombie's skull. Relj didn't stop, didn't slow down. She plucked the young hume up from her mother's dying arms and fled back to the safety of the cypress bows.

Gasping for breath and clutching the squalling child to her breast, Relj stiffened in horror as the realization of her actions slammed home.

She had left the wood.

She could feel the Green Word recoil. She heard it draw back, hissing in distress at her betrayal. She heard it call out to her sisters, painfully distant. They would know. They knew already.

She had left the wood.

However brief her departure might have been, it was still forbidden. Viera were meant for the Wood and the Wood alone. She had left; she would not be welcomed back. Worse still, Relj looked at the sobbing girl clinging to her, she had brought a hume. Relj numbly carded her nails through sodden hair. She had loved taking care of the young Viera that her village was blessed with, hoping to perhaps be blessed with her own when the Calling came in a moon's time, but now…

The hume child had exhausted herself crying before Relj dared to move from the bows. Gently, she carried the sleeping girl through the treetops. The Wood was silent in her ears, and the path bereft of her sisters. Still, Relj pressed on to the village Menat. She was met, expectedly, with the sad gazes of her sisters even as they barred her entrance.

"The child…" Relj tried to explain. But her tongue felt heavy and cold as her heart. "…She is only a child."

The head of Menat, in surprising kindness, brushed her fingers along Relj's cheek and nodded. A few others came forward in silence and Relj desperately held back her tears. All her belongings were brought forward. Her second bow, a pair of long knives she kept for hunting, spare garments… even the few coins she collected (along with a few she suspected she did not) were placed before her. The village often burned the belongings of the Departed in a silent effigy of a funeral. But she … she gulped at the implication … she would be allowed to keep them.

Relj stood solemnly as the Viera of Menat slowly turned and left her in silence. Alone on the path, Relj carefully tucked the hume, who had awakened but remained wisely quiet during the encounter. Relj quickly tucked everything away into a satchel she knew was not hers. Her own bow already slung about her shoulders, she gripped the second in her left hand and held her right out to the child. She had started this path of her own volition, however unintentionally, and thus she would have to see it through to the end.

Relj guided the girl back through the Wood, back to the Greenswathe, and halted nervously at the edge.

Nervously, the girl clung to her hand and looked out at the snow. "Please," the child whispered. "Don't leave me here."

Relj gulped and took her first deliberate step out onto the snow. She looked down at the child. She was skinny, and filthy, and her clothes hung in rags about her shivering frame. Relj regretted many things about the day, would likely regret them for all her days, but she refused to regret this.

"We are going to Bur-Omisace," she stated firmly.

And the girl followed her out into the Rift.

* * *

 _Author's Notes: When you meet Relj, you have to wonder why she would bother to leave the Wood when she cared so little for humes. She's so detached, yet ... she offers unexpected aid. She hates humes, but she remains on Mt. Bur-Omisace among the refugees while other Viera travel to see the world. She's a puzzle, and I thought she needed a few extra pieces to flesh her out. FFXII has so many minor characters, it's kind of fun to imagine their histories._


	2. Chapter 2: Bloodfire

_Disclaimer: If I owned FFXII, Reks would have lived._

* * *

 **Bloodfire**

* * *

 _Stretching southward from the Royal City of Rabanastre, lay the expansive savannah known as the Giza Plains. This is a land of extremes, for the weather in Giza is of the all or nothing variety. Scorching droughts are replaced with torrential rains; the earth near constantly possessed by either famine or flood. As a result, few people live in this mercurial landscape, save a few well-adapted nomads. Even the fauna are, blessedly, sparse, and most of the vegetation is as brown and dry as the deserts that reside further north._

 _But there is a brief moment in the year when the plains are nothing short of paradise. After the Rains subside, and scant weeks before the sear of summer sets in, the Giza Plains positively erupt with life. Giant Tortoises rumble around feasting on newgreen river grass. Rabbits frolick beneath the red berry bowers of the Dalamscan Acacia trees._

 _And the most precious prize of all, the Galbana Lily, bursts into bloom. Fetching hundreds of gil on the market, famed for both its beauty and use in apothecaries, many seek out it's illustrious petals._

* * *

o.o.o.

* * *

"Reks! Reks, wait up!"

Reks pushed sandy blond hair from where it dripped into his eyes. "Catch up, Vaan!" he called back to his little brother. Carefully, he continued to test his way forward along the riverbank. Most of the ground in the plains had turned to mud during the Rains, but the South Bank along the River Giza was particularly treacherous.

"Stay up on the flat of it, okay Vaan!" Reks called back to his brother. He loved Vaan, really he did, but sometimes his little brother didn't think and tended to get in over his head. Reks had realized long ago that it was better to prevent Vaan from getting into trouble rather than pulling him out of whatever mess he got himself into. They usually took a turn for the spectacular. Reks was still confused about that one time with…

"Hey, Reks!" Vaan's voice was way too close.

"Get back up there!" Reks ordered, whirling around to face a face at Vaan. His brother cackled like a baby hyena, but scampered back up the bank. Reks shook his head, and went back to navigating the sludge.

"Do you see any yet?" Vaan called.

Reks rolled his eyes, but smiled at his brother's antics. "Not yet, I'm looking!" He hollered back. Carefully, he stepped off the mud and into the river properly. Carefully, to avoid startling any Ichthon, he started shifting through the tall reeds that choked the waters near the shore. He was looking for the telltale glint of blood red in the weeds…

"Hey, Reks…"

"Not now Vaan!" He pushed more plants aside, ignoring his brother with practiced ease. He shoved more plants aside; his fingers were splattered with bracken.

"But Reks…"

"Vaan, please!" Reks' blue-hazel eyes narrowed in on a sliver of pink. He carefully pulled out his dagger to hack through the reeds faster.

"REKS!"

He whirled at his brother's scream. Somehow, despite the squelching mud and clear weather, an Urstrix had snuck up on Vaan. The dagger flew out of his hand before Reks even registered throwing it. It sunk into the avian's left wing joint, and the fiend let out an angry snarl. Vaan had fallen backwards, and was skittering out of the way. The furious Urstrix hissed menacingly and raised one talon high to slash at the boy.

"Vaan, get up!" Reks hurled himself out of the river, tugging free his broadsword as he ran. "VAAN!" He slashed high aiming for the head. The Urstrix reared back, squawking; Reks only grazed it high on the chest. Still, the avian bellowed in fury, incensed at the attack. Reks felt the blood run out of his face when another load hiss answered the first, only this one came from behind.

"REKS!" Vaan yelled. He barely scrambled away from the second descending Urstrix as it beat its wings at the boy.

The fiend protested the loss of its prey. Reks pivoted on his heel to lunge at the second avian, his sword running through the left of the torso. It caught on the ribs and Reks couldn't pull it free before the first Urstrix took the opportunity to pounce at him from behind. Desperately, Reks dove after his brother, rolling between the two fiends. Coming to his feet, he snatched Vaan by the back of his vest.

"Go! GO!" he bellowed, pushing his brother in front of him. His mind was reeling from the attack. Vaan had barely gotten away. _He'd_ barely gotten away. But now Reks didn't have either of the precious weapons he'd spent so long saving for. Vaan _might_ have a spare utility knife in his boot. _If_ he'd remembered it.

But Reks rather doubted it.

Latching hold of Vaan's hand, Reks pulled them both through the wet grass. The second Urstrix wouldn't be getting up again, thank the gods. And flocking instincts might keep the first fiend distracted for a few minutes, but…

"SCREEEEE!"

Or maybe not.

"RUN!" He pushed his little brother faster, skipping over a bank. The sloshing from their landing roused a lizard, but to Reks' relief the giant amphibian waddled away in a different direction. The Urstrix was unwilling to follow them through the water, but the clever avian quickly made for a rickety bridge less than a hundred meters to the East. Reks and Vaan barely had a moment to gulp in air before the elder was pulling them along again.

Reks raced west, Vaan gasping behind him, and nearly skidded when the path angled into the glade he knew would offer sanctuary. "Here!" And he shoved his little brother through.

Reks felt the shimmer of magick fall around him like a cloak. He stumbled to a halt, his hands on his knees as breath heaved in his chest. Finally, there were safe. As his lungs steadied, Reks allowed himself to relax. He looked up at his brother's gasp of surprise.

"Whoa," Vaan whispered. His eyes dazzled in the blue light of the glade. "Reks, what is that?"

Reks felt his face pull into a tired smile. He's never taken Vaan so far out of the city before, so he couldn't really blame him for being so enamored.

"That, baby brother," he answered, "Is called a Life Cryst." The floating jewel shimmered in the air, magicks rippling around it. Reks could feel muscles pulling back into place and his shoulders fell at the peace of the glade.

"A Life Cryst?" Vaan echoed. Enamored, the boy carefully reached out a hand. A pulse came from the cryst, and Vaan's eyes fluttered shut at the feeling.

"Yeah," Reks murmured. He walked softly over and put his own hand on the great blue gem. "They're _very_ rare. They're like a giant piece of holy magicite. They can cure just about anything, and a right life saver on hunts, let me tell you."

"Like now," Vaan admitted miserably. "Reks, I'm sorry."

"Vaan," Reks started.

"No!" Vaan insisted. "I'm really, really sorry. You told me to keep watch and those bird things just walked right up! I'm~"

"Twelve," Reks cut in. "Vaan, you're twelve. You're gonna make mistakes sometimes, Vaan, it happens."

"But you lost your sword!" Vaan cried.

Reks made a face. "Yeah," he admitted, "That sucks." He gave Vaan a confident smile. "But I'll get another. Losing you would be a lot worse."

"Really?" Vaan asked quietly.

"Really," Reks nodded. "I've still got an old mythril sword at home. Besides! Can you imagine what mom would do if I came home without her precious little baby boy."

Vaan squawked like a chocobo chick at the teasing and batted away Reks' hand when he tried to ruffle Vaan's hair. Reks just swung around and pulled Vaan into a hug.

"I'm glad you're safe," he whispered into his brother's hair.

"Me, too," Vaan whispered back. He clung to Reks' shoulders, shaking. "Me, too."

* * *

 _Author's notes: **Greenfire** really was meant to be a one shot. However, I love Ivalice and the inspiration kinda hit me hard. Reks didn't have a lit of screen time, but his personality just struck a chord with me. I really liked him._

 _And if you look in the Giza's South Bank in the Dry, you really can find a broadsword._


	3. Chapter 3: Rosefire

**Rosefire**

* * *

 _Known to only a few, the Arcadian Imperial Gardens are a hidden gem few outsiders are invited to see. The House of Solidor has held the throne of Arcades for several generations, and in doing so left their stamp on the palace grounds, just as they have the rest of the Empire. Tucked safely within a veritable fortress, the Imperial Gardens boast flora from the furthest corners of Ivalice._

 _The late Empress Anatolia, mother to His Grace, the Emperor Gramis, was quoted as saying, "Arcades shall one day encompass all of Ivalice. So too shall Our Gardens."_

 _Both her husband and son have laboured to make it so._

 _But among the rare Eskar Lilies of the Sandsea and fragile White Saxiflage from the Paramina Mountains, it was the common Rose that held the heart of the Empress._

 _Ensconced in a magnificent glass conservatory, the Roses bloom year round. Every variety in every hue imaginable are cultivated here. But you may have it on very good authority that Empress always favored roses that were red._

* * *

o.o.o

* * *

Lord Harran held his hand aloft and stroked the crimson petals with a tenderness that had long fled the Imperial Court. He frowned, for the blooms brought forth painfully beautiful memories of his grandmother. The Lady had always been such a kind and loving woman; she had cared for him personally when his mother had passed, him and his brothers. His heart clenched at the thought of them. His grandmother would weep to see them now.

"Har~!" His younger brother Sidon rounded the green glass corner without any of the grace expected of the Imperial Family. Harran couldn't help but sigh. Hair disheveled, tunic untucked, and panic written plainly on his face, few would know at first sight that Sidon was the Emperor's second son. Bitterly, Harran wondered if even their father bothered to remember that these days. His new wife was a menace.

"Har!" Sidon continued, heedless of his elder brother's ire, "I have done something terribly, terribly _stupid_!"

Harran felt his eyes widen at the blatant admission. Without thinking he snatched Sidon by the collar. "Not here!" he hissed, and dragged his brother away, out of the green houses.

* * *

o.o.o

* * *

Harran was used to cleaning up his little brothers' messes. He was the eldest; it was his job. Vayne was by far the easiest. Quick and clever, his baby brother's only true vice was wandering away from his guards. And by wander, Harran meant completely baffle, befuddle, and beget. More than once Harran had snatched the precocious Vayne from the alleys of Old Arcades or the bowels of some courtier's mansion they had to visit.

Sidon, unfortunately, was not so easy. He didn't wander too often, thank the Gods, but his brother was far too fond of his drink. Often Harran would outright order servers to cease supplying him with wine, and he had dragged Sidon away from countless drunken trysts. But this! This!

Harran slowly, carefully, rubbed his temples to alleviate the blossoming migraine taking root in his skull. Much more quickly, he checked and rechecked every lock, keyhole, and listening screen in the room. They were huddled away in Harran's most private chambers.

He turned to Sidon and hissed, "Please inform me that your previous statement was a fanciful slip of the tongue." He wouldn't kill his brother, no matter how tempting it may be.

Sidon, for his part, looked utterly miserable. Truly, Harran had seen him with a better complexion with a three day hangover. "It isn't," Sidon bemoaned. "I'd had at least two bottles of Madhu, and I didn't realize it was _her_ , but ~ "

"You slept with our father's wife!" Harran thundered, temper snapping outright, "Gods above, Sidon, she is our step-mother!"

Sidon let out a painful moan, and pinned Harran with hysterical blue eyes. Harran would not kill his brother.

He wouldn't have to.

Emperor Gramis would kill him himself.

And just like that, Harran made up his mind.

* * *

o.o.o

* * *

The Lady Uma, Harran snarled vindictively in his head, was a conniving _whore_.

Harran had quietly, and rather subtly considering their station, smuggled Sidon from Arcades that very night. He'd even told some semblance of truth to their father, with the straightest face he had ever produced; Sidon was recovering in the countryside from a terrible bout with his drink. Harran had even wrangled a doctor from Draklor to provide treatment. Harran had hoped that the Uma would realize how perilous her new position as Empress was, and let the whole thing die. Instead, she had done one better.

"And it is with great joy!" the Emperor Gramis announced to the entire court, and not a little drunkenly, Sidon got that honestly at least, "That I announce the continued security of House Solidor!" The simpering look on the Empress' face made Harran's stomach curdle. "My Lady, your Empress, carries yet another son of the Empire!"

The cheering swelled amongst the nobles of the court, but all Harran could feel was his heart sink.

He knew exactly who's child that bitch was bearing, and it wasn't his father's.

Thin fingers curled around his, and Harran startled to look down into the clear sapphire of Vayne's eyes. His youngest brother looked up at him with a waxy complexion, and the usual sharpness of his expression had morphed into thinly veiled terror. All Harran could do was grip Vayne's hand in return.

And curse whatever God had made the boy so clever.

* * *

o.o.o

* * *

Harran stood quietly in the conservatory, hands cradling a carmine bud. He damned his father, the wizened fool, for this was cruel even by his standards. He could hear armoured soldiers moving quickly in the distance. He paid them no mind. It didn't matter anymore. Very little did.

"Har~" came the tremulous call, and Harran turned around to see one of the few things that did still matter edge carefully around a corner.

Harran smiled. Vayne was, after all, his little brother. The only one he had left.

And damned if he let that bitch win so easily.

Harran smiled bitterly, letting his brother know silently that all was forgiven. Vayne's small hands trembled, and his eyes were cloudy with terror.

Harran smiled still as blade pulled away. He sank to his knees, blood and blossoms spread across the ground in a macabre claret carpet.

He smiled. House Solidor would live on.

* * *

 _Author's Notes: Harran and Sidon are ancient cities in Mesopotamia, just like Larsa. Officially, the elder Solidors are never named, but I wanted something that connected them to their brothers._

 _And officially, I think Gramis was the blackest villain in the entire game. Vayne I can forgive. You do crazy shit for the people you love. But ordering your son to kill his older brothers? Killing your own brothers? Letting the Senate try to manipulate your teenage son into doing the same? If anyone's wondering why Arcadian politics are so messed up, you don't have to look any farther than that monster._


End file.
